A Celebration of Bad Sex
by Lomesir
Summary: The crew of the USS Enterprise has good sex...most of the time. These are the times they didn't. :Part 1 of the Celebrations Series:
1. Kirk and Spock I

The hotel room door burst open and two young men tumbled inside, desperately pulling each other's shirts off. Their way to the dinky bed opposite them was haphazard; they were joined at the mouth and unwilling to part.

They'd just come back from a dinner date. A very good dinner date, if the way they moaned each other's names was any indication. Every time one murmured "Jim", the other replied with an equally breathy "Spock."

Finally, Jim pulled away. They were at the foot of the bed. "Let's do this. I want to." Spock replied by unzipping Jim's jeans and tortuously dipping his hand into the waistband of the boxers underneath. Jim shuddered when he felt the hot hand on him.

"You're going to make me come in my pants if you keep that up." His own hands were fumbling with Spock's zipper. After a frustrated moment, Spock was free of his pants and both men fell onto the bed, laughing at the way their limbs tangled. Jim caressed Spock's face, his hand trembling slightly.

"You're beautiful, you know," he said softly. "Like this, in private, with me. You're always beautiful, of course," he added hastily, "but now, hearing your laugh…"

Spock kissed Jim, swallowing whatever words he was about to say. Jim rolled onto his back and pulled Spock onto him. They kissed noisily for another minute. Spock's hand traveled down past Jim's aching erection to between his legs. Jim gasped when he felt a finger slip inside him. He grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You wanna fuck me?" His voice was honey and promise.

Spock smiled, and there was a definite gleam in his eye. "Only if you want to be fucked, and I am not convinced of your desire to be penetrated."

This was a tease, of course. Jim and Spock had been fooling around for several months, but they'd only used their hands and mouths. Tonight they'd decided to go All The Way.

Jim leaned up to Spock's ear, knowing full well what his hot breath near the sensitive skin would do to his Vulcan lover. His lips brushed Spock's ear as he spoke.

"I want your hot cock inside me right now. I want you to make me scream your name. I want—"

Another finger slipped inside and the burn started Jim into silence. Besides Spock's hot cock inside him, he also wanted some lube.

Spock must have realized his mistake, because he deftly reached over the side of the bed and dug around in his pants pockets until he found the small bottle of personal lubricant he'd purchased for tonight's date. He squeezed some onto his fingers and resumed fingering Jim, making sure there was plenty in and around his opening. He also put a safe amount on his cock. Jim's eyes followed Spock's hand as it moved up and down. "God, I can't wait for you to fuck me with that."

"Lie back, Jim," Spock said. Jim obeyed at once, his whole body radiating eagerness.

Spock lined himself up with Jim's opening and gently pushed his way inside. This was Jim's first time with Spock—and his first time with a man in several years—so Spock knew to go slowly.

Jim winced but said nothing.

Spock stopped moving and took Jim's hand in his own. "Are you in pain, Jim?" He wanted to go into Jim's mind and see for himself, but they'd agreed earlier to keep telepathy out of the bedroom for now. It was too intense.

Jim shook his head. "No, it's just a little burn because it's been so long. Keep going, it'll get better."

Spock pushed forward again, savoring the way Jim's muscle felt like satin around him. He pushed forward another inch and Jim inhaled sharply, but still he said nothing. When Spock paused yet again, Jim urged him to continue. "It'll get better. Don't worry about it."

Another inch or so, and Spock was in slowly. Jim's jaw was tensed, but otherwise he seemed fine—though his hard-on didn't seem quite as stiff as before.

Then Spock pulled out and pushed back in.

Jim's erection flagged completely. "Spock, stop," he gasped. Spock pulled out immediately, and Jim cried out. It wasn't a sexy cry.

"Jim, I apologize, I did not—"

"Stop talking. Please, just stop," Jim said, panting a little. He gingerly pressed a finger between his legs and then looked at it. There was a small smear of blood mixed with the lube. "You'd think I'd never been fucked before," he said sadly.

"Jim, I never meant to injure you," Spock whispered, cheeks green. He stared at the bloody smear. "Clearly I did not prepare you enough, and I was far too rough."

"Hey, hey, no talking like that," Jim said, placing a clean finger on Spock's lips. "Sometimes sex hurts no matter what you do. We'll figure something out." Spock gently took Jim's hand into his own.

"You are certain I have not permanently damaged you?"

Jim sighed. "Yeah. This stuff happens. We'll figure out something else."


	2. Nyota and Scotty I

Scotty was in the closet.

Correction: Scotty and Nyota were huddled together in the closet, making out like horny teenagers.

Things were a bit cramped. Scotty couldn't quite stick his hand up Nyota's skirt from his current positioning, so he shifted over a little and grunted a bit. Something metal was digging into his back.

"You okay, baby?" Nyota stopped kissing him for a second. It was too dark to see her face, but he imagined she had the adorable little frown lines between her eyes that appeared along with that tone.

"Yeah, I'm good, just trying to…ah, there we are." Scotty had successfully found a comfortable groping angle.

Nyota hummed happily as Scotty moved her frilly panties aside and slipped a finger inside. He was so good at this, knowing where to touch her with an engineer's care and precision.

She gripped him tighter and kissed him fiercely, loving the way his scent washed over her. He smelled of metal and grease. Something sharp and unnameable was mixed in; she liked to think it was dilithium, though she had no way of telling.

Scotty's ministrations made her toes curl. "Scotty, I'm…I'm gonna…"

"You're gonna what, sweetheart?" He whispered the words into her ear.

"I'm gonna…"

His other hand found its way under her shirt and kneaded her breast.

Nyota's orgasm explode through her body. Scotty held her close while she trembled through the aftershocks, one, two, three times.

"Oh my god, Scotty," she murmured. "That was amazing. _You_ are amazing."

Scotty chuckled. "Once you've had an engineer, there's no going back."

Nyota's body sagged a bit, and she kissed Scotty again, this time slowly and deeply.

"I want to return the favor," she said after several minutes of tongue-play. It was her turn to awkwardly shift around the tiny space, bumping into an electrical box and unknown sharp objects here and there. Finally she found a position that didn't threaten to dislocate her shoulder, and she slowly unzipped Scotty's zipper.

"You want my hand on your cock?" She grasped him firmly and smiled. "You want me to make you come all over my uniform?" Scotty loved dirty talk. He said there was nothing hotter than a linguist using her talents to tell him what she was going to do to him.

"Hell yes," he said in a kind of strangled gasp, since her hand had just found what she was looking for. She tugged his pants down a bit to make her job easier.

She moved her hand up and down, enjoying how firm and hard he was. Scotty's knees were trembling, and she thought she heard a whimper. She swirled her thumb over the leaking tip every few seconds, which caused him to shudder harshly.

She sped up. Scotty was breathing raggedly, close to climax and then—

He yelped.

Nyota's bracelet had caught in the thatch of hair around the base of his penis, and she hadn't noticed until she'd tried to pull away.

"What happened?" Scotty said, voice high. "Holy hell, that hurt."

Nyota's wrist was stuck at Scotty's crotch. The settings around the stones of the bracelet were essentially tiny hooks—they wouldn't be easy to remove. She tugged a little more, causing Scotty to gently but firmly pull the bracelet off her wrist and free her hand. The bracelet was still caught in the hair.

"It's stuck, Nyota. You can't see what you're doing, so we'll just have to do this later." He pecked her on her cheek. She was glad he couldn't see the hot flush on her face.

He zipped up his pants while she straightened her clothes. After listening carefully for a moment, Scotty opened the door of the closet and made sure the coast was clear.

"Alright, let's go," he whispered to her. Nyota and Scotty walked quickly to his quarters and started to look for a pair of scissors.


	3. Bones and Carol I

Carol could hardly believe her luck. She peeked into the sleeping area of the luxurious hotel room to make sure she hadn't imagined it. Nope, it was real.

Leonard McCoy, M.D., was reclining on an exquisite King-sized bed, clad in black pajama pants and looking like a Greek god in repose. The bed was the centerpiece of the finest hotel room she'd ever seen, much less stayed in. It was their first real date away from the U.S.S. Enterprise. They'd just dined on a meal of real meat and fresh vegetables, not replicated rubbish that had a sawdust aftertaste.

Tonight was the first night of a five-day shore leave and they were going to spend it having sex surrounded by finely papered walls, not gray bulkheads.

She peeked out again and stifled a hysterical giggle. Leonard was just so handsome. Even after dating for a year, she was still in awe of his toned muscles and even skin tone. She loved to run her tongue over his full lips when they kissed. And for all his bluster, he had the kindest, warmest eyes she'd ever seen on a man.

But back to business.

She stripped out of her little pink dress and hung it on the back of the door. She'd bought special undergarments for tonight, and her reflection reminded her that they had been worth every credit. She couldn't wait to see Leonard's face when he saw her in perfectly-cut dark blue lace lingerie. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the room.

All her trepidation melted away when she looked at Leonard.

It was as if he'd never seen her before. Wonder, surprise, and pure adoration flitted across his face, and Carol's heart warmed. Even if they ended up shagging on the floor like teenagers, it would still be pure lovemaking. She truly loved Leonard McCoy, and she didn't doubt that he returned that love.

Leonard extended a hand towards her, a clear invitation. "Join me, beautiful?"

Carol suppressed a mad urge to dive into bed and forced herself to walk slowly to him, swaying her hips a little. Leonard gulped.

As soon as she was on the bed, self-control was lost. They fell into their favorite routine of kissing, petting, and fingernails dragging across shoulders. Carol delightedly licked and sucked Leonard's length, and a rough thumb on her nipple made her moan. Before too long, she was aching for him to be inside her. It was very near pain, in fact.

She stopped sucking and sat up. Slowly trailing a finger up his penis and swirling it around the tip a little, she looked at him and grinned wolfishly. "Hey mister, wanna take a ride?"

He grinned and she climbed on top of him.

Carol liked to be on top. She could control the depth and speed of penetration, and Leonard always hit her g-spot. The downside, if you could call it that, was that her natural fluids were much more obvious. The first time she'd expressed dismay at "leaking" all over him, Leonard had simply laughed and kissed her. "Darlin', if you don't have that, I'm not doing my job right. I think it's sexy as hell."

After countless vigorous shag-a-thons, she'd learned to simply ignore any extraneous wetness down below. It wasn't like too much lubrication could hurt, and Leonard seemed turned on by it.

However, after a few minutes of marvelous thrusting, she couldn't ignore that things honestly seemed a bit too slippery.

Leonard's eyes were closed in ecstasy, so she glanced down…

…and shrieked.

Blood was everywhere. Holy shit, it was everywhere. It was on Leonard's bits, on her thighs, and on the formerly pristine one-thousand threadcount Egyptian white cotton sheets.

Leonard's eyes snapped open and immediately zeroed in on the apparent massacre between Carol's legs.

"Oh…my."

Carol leapt off the bed and fled to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth.

Leonard called after her. "Uh, sweetheart? You really don't have to freak out. I think it's just your period."

Carol blushed to the shade of a ripe tomato. "What do you mean, 'just' my period?" The hysteria was back. "It's five days early! Oh my god, oh my god, I ruined those sheets. I ruined this whole night."

Leonard quietly walked into the bathroom and took the washcloth from her, then knelt down and wiped her thighs. "You're still here with me, so the way I see it, the evening's just fine."

Carol leaned against the sink and squeezed her eyes shut. "Leonard, there's blood all over your dick. Please tell me what part of this picture is fine."

He leaned against the sink next to her. "Well, for starters, we're positive that you're not pregnant."

She glared at him. "Shore leave is five days long. I'm going to be bleeding all over the damn place the entire time."

Leonard kissed her forehead. "I don't think the housekeeping would appreciate it if you bled all over the place, so why don't we make new plans while we go to the drug store for some tampons?"

The corners of Carol's mouth twitched, and then she giggled. Leonard started laughing, and then suddenly they were both cracking up uncontrollably.

"Let me clean up," Carol said. "And while we're at the store, I'm buying some sweets."


	4. Bones and Carol II

Leonard could hardly believe his luck.

He was about to have sex with Lieutenant Carol Marcus. In fact, _she_ asked _him_ to bed. His head spun a little every time he remembered the moment when her hand had lightly brushed his thigh under the table in the officers' mess. He'd been telling her about a new tricorder prototype he'd been working on in his spare time, and a slow smile lit up her face like burning embers.

"I'd love it if you'd give me an exam with your new tricorder. Perhaps in my quarters, tonight?"

Well then.

They'd been "dating" for three months, which meant that they'd talk in his office or on the observation deck every night. A stolen kiss here and there, maybe. He'd somehow managed to talk Scotty into replicating a rose. _For my English rose_, said the card attached to it. She'd rewarded him with a kiss that was decidedly more French than English.

But now the big moment was here and Leonard felt oddly small. Carol was attending to a few last-minute things at her station, according to the note she'd left on her bedside table next to a bottle of wine. He'd spent all of the last ten minutes looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He wasn't young anymore.

Maybe he wasn't an old man, but there were too many lines in his face for a young man. His hair was a non-descript brown that was most commonly found in tree bark. His chest hair had never grown in like his father said it would; instead he had a small, uneven patch of hair between his nipples that just looked weird and undernourished.

He ran a hand over his stomach, trying to imagine what it would be like to have defined abdominal muscles like Jim or Hikaru. They frequently sparred shirtless in the gym—crowds of female crewmen seemed to gravitate there when word got out. He flexed his biceps a little bit and didn't see much difference. He told himself he shouldn't care so much—he was a doctor, dammit, not a bodybuilder.

But then again, none of his coworkers were bodybuilders, but they were in much better shape than he. Jim worked a ludicrously long day and he still had time to stay in shape. Even the pointy-eared first officer could be found in the gym occasionally with Jim. Leonard's downtime was spent poring over medical books or blueprints for medbay technology, and more recently with Carol.

A heavy feeling settled into his chest as he thought about spending time with Carol. His wife, his darling Jocelyn, had left him because he'd neglected his family. He tried to spend some time every day with his new flame, but part of being a doctor was never truly being off duty.

Why would anyone want to be with someone who would always have an obligation?

Leonard sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

He was old, he was the least attractive of the officers, and he'd never be able to devote himself to Carol in a way she deserved. She deserved someone to worship her and be at her beck and call, someone who would come home at all hours smelling like blood and sterilizer. Why, he didn't even have any money to make up for his hectic life-not really. Between the divorce's legal fees, alimony, child support, and all the medical services he never could bring himself to charge for, his net worth was somewhere around the dingy-apartment-and-ramen zone.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Carol quietly entered the room, clad in her science blues. Leonard's heart caught in his throat.

Carol Marcus was perfect.

Her white-blond hair framed a perfectly-shaped face, which was right now smiling down at him. He loved it when she smiled; her obscenely full lips quirked upwards and caused little dimples to appear. Leonard's favorite thing about her face, though, was her eye color. Heterochromia had blessed her with one blue eye and one green eye, and he could look at that all day. He could wax poetic all damn day about her body.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetie," she said softly. "But if you don't mind my saying, it was worth it to find you waiting for me. You should have put a bow around your neck."

Leonard didn't have a reply for that.

She sat down next to him and laid a hand on his knee. He covered it with his own. "You know, I was worried you'd think I was too forward today in the mess." She looked down, blushing. "It's just that I've wanted to be with you since we met. You bring out this _side_ of me, it's so embarrassing."

A beat.

Had Carol really said that? Leonard thought perhaps he was hallucinating. There was no way this…this _goddess_ had just admitted that _he_ made her crazy with lust. Maybe she was just being nice to him. He'd dissect it all later, but first he had to answer.

"Carol, people might joke that I'm old-fashioned, but I'm not that old-fashioned. You're a woman with a woman's needs. I respect that." Carol blushed again, which somehow made her even more beautiful. He gently squeezed her hand. "I like a woman who speaks her mind."

He sounded far more suave than he felt. Honestly, he felt a bit sick. Carol sounded half in love with him already, and he couldn't stand that he would inevitably disappoint her like he'd disappointed every other woman who'd been foolish enough to look at him.

Carol thumbed his cheek and leaned in for a kiss, which quickly deepened. She gently pushed him back onto the bed and tentatively placed her hand on his side. It moved upward to his chest, lightly fluffing the hair there.

"I like a chest with some hair," she said playfully. "I like to know I'm with a man, not a silly boy." Her other hand moved away from his face and found its way to his thigh. "I bet you have hair in all sorts of interesting places. Permission to do a physical, doctor?"

Leonard swallowed. Oh god, she wanted to see him naked. It had seemed like such an abstract concept a few minutes ago.

Still, she looked so happy. He nodded.

Leonard was already shirtless, so her hands went straight to his waistband. Deft fingers unbuttoned the clasp and unzipped, and he helpfully scooted up so she could pull the garment off, revealing Starfleet-issue boxer briefs. She didn't comment on his lack of erection, which was very kind of her, in his opinion.

"Before I unwrap you, perhaps I should even the playing field," she said with a giggle. She stood up and slowly unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She was clad in only the standard black undershirt and black panties. The way her breasts moved under her shirt made him suspect she wasn't wearing a bra.

She slowly lifted her shirt over her head and pulled it off. Yep, no bra. Leonard stared at the most beautiful breasts he'd ever seen, creamy, perfectly round, and nicely perky.

It all came crashing down at once.

He didn't deserve this. Carol was so far out of his league he couldn't even begin to fathom it. Every name he'd ever been called since childhood seemed to flood through his mind—redneck, hick, white trash, hillbilly—and he couldn't stand the idea of the smartest, sexiest, funniest, kindest woman in the known universe sinking down to his level out of pity.

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Carol, I don't think I can do this."

Carol knelt down between his legs. He thought she looked amused, of all things. "Did you drink some wine before I got here? Give it a minute, I'm sure Little Lenny will be up shortly."

Oh. She really didn't get it.

"No, it's not that. I…I just can't have sex with you. I'm not…good for you, Carol."

Carol raised an eyebow. "Explain, please."

For some reason, Leonard felt a stab of annoyance. He stood up quickly, as did Carol.

"Look at me! And look at you! I'm just some country hick from fuckin' Marietta, Georgia with no money and no future beyond this goddamned tin can, and you're…you!" He gestured in her general direction.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I'm me. Carol Marcus, daughter of a homicidal mental case."

There was a pregnant pause.

"You could do so much better than me," he said flatly. He couldn't quite meet her eyes. If he had, he would've seen her eyes narrow a fraction.

"Since you think to seem I'm so perfect, I suppose you believe that I'm completely brilliant," she said coolly. Leonard's eyes widened.

"Of course I do."

"But if I'm so brilliant, why would I choose someone beneath me, as you clearly think you are? Do you think I'm one of those women who lead men on out of cruelty? Or pity?" Leonard opened his mouth to answer, but Carol continued. "Let me tell you something, Leonard McCoy. I do not sleep with people out of pity." She was angry now. "To tell me I could do better is to question my personal judgment, and that, _sir_, is insulting."

"I—I never meant—"

"Of course you didn't," Carol said quietly. She took his face in her hands. "I don't know what kind of pedestal you've put me on, but you need to take me off it, sweetheart."

Leonard closed his eyes and clasped her hand in his.

"I'm messed up," he whispered.

Carol kissed him chastely on the corner of his mouth. "We'll take this one day at a time."


	5. Kirk and Spock II

If anyone asked Spock what he was doing, he'd say it was scientific research. Surely someone in the cosmos would believe that. After all, what better way was there to explore sexual behavior between humans than to watch videos by humans of humans having sex? As it was, he'd already discovered three different positions he wanted to discuss with Jim.

The two men in the video he was currently watching featured two attractive males engaging in fellatio. The man receiving the fellatio was making noises of deep contentment, as was his partner. Spock and Jim performed fellatio on each other regularly—every 35 hours on average—so this video was not unlike his current sexual behavior so far. However, the description had indicated that it contained deviant behavior in some way, and the traffic for it was higher than other videos featuring fellatio between two males.

Spock recognized the signs receiving man's impending orgasm: twitching abdominal muscles, haggard breathing. Spock loved it when he himself reached this point of a sexual encounter; Jim would carefully take the whole of Spock's length into his mouth and let his semen flow down his throat, humming and looking up at Spock through his smoky eyelashes.

Much to Spock's surprise, the man in the video pulled out of his partner's mouth and orgasmed all over his partner's face. Spock's shock only grew when he saw that the kneeling man seemed to genuinely love being—defiled?—in such a way. The tips of Spock's ears turned green at the thought of Jim covered in Spock's semen, dripping off his nose, down his cheek bones.

Some part of Spock also really liked the idea. Namely, his cock did. He quickly clamped down on that particular physiological response and analyzed why he took to the idea so much. Perhaps some base, pre-Reform part of him liked the idea of marking his mate. He felt the same warmth that he felt whenever he saw love bites on Jim's neck after a night of rowdy sex.

His fingers flew across the keyboard as he searched for more videos of men orgasming on their partner's face. Apparently the act was called a "cum shot". There was a dizzying amount of pornography featuring the act, and even a subgenre in which the appeal seemed to be that several men orgasmed onto a lone individual. Spock wondered vaguely how the performers cleaned their hair at the end of the day.

Still, everyone seemed very happy at the results, and Spock could only assume that the enormous appeal lay in the fact that humans truly enjoyed semen on their face. He even found an article on New Cosmopolitan's website about the benefits of using semen as a facial lotion.

He switched off his computer terminal and readied himself for his shift. Tonight, he'd surprise Jim by employing his newfound knowledge.

"Damn, today's been a long day," Jim muttered, pulling off his boots and tossing them into the corner. He was sitting on the edge of Spock's bed next to Spock.

"I, too, am unusually mentally fatigued." He glanced sidelong at Jim and lowered his voice. "I thought of engaging in sexual intercourse with you several times today."

Jim smirked and took his shirt off. "Is that your way of saying 'let's boink?'"

Spock took his own shirt off and leaned in for a lingering kiss. Jim's hot breath in his mouth always made him achingly hard in a matter of seconds, and indeed, when Jim pulled away he looked down and grinned.

"Jim, I would like it very much if you would perform oral sex on me tonight," Spock said delicately, hoping he didn't sound demanding. He and Jim had had several conversations about communication in the bedroom, and the thought that putting the bottom line up front was the best option.

Jim obviously agreed, because he pushed Spock down on the bed onto his back and practically tore Spock's trousers open. His plump pink lips closed around Spock's length, and Spock saw stars.

No physical sensation he'd ever experienced remotely compared to how it felt to have Jim Kirk's tongue on him in this manner. Jim had become an expert at bringing Spock to the brink of climax and then backing off a small bit, then starting it all over. His jaw never seemed to get tired, and the happy noises he made during the experience made Spock imagine that Jim loved nothing more than pleasuring Spock. Though it was highly illogical, during these moments Spock had brief thoughts of leaving Starfleet with Jim and choosing a career path where they never had to leave their home, allowing sex to take place any time of the day or night.

After a time, Spock felt the signs of impending release, and he sat up. Jim's gaze met his own, and he looked so…_sweet_ at that moment. The desire to do something pleasurable for Jim filled his chest again, and he carefully pulled out of Jim's mouth not a full second before coming all over Jim's face.

Jim was surprised, that much was certain.

"Wha—what the _hell_? Spock!"

Jim scrambled backwards, wiping furiously at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, so he stumbled over Spock's boots and fell on his ass. Still pawing at his face, he turned his head in Spock's direction.

"What did you do that for? Oh god, it's in my eyes. Fucking…ah, shit."

Both men were bewildered. Spock hastily tucked himself into his pants and rushed to Jim's side, though Jim slapped him away when he tried to help him clean his face.

"I thought humans found semen on their face highly pleasurable…?" Spock's was unable to keep the new doubt from voice. Jim's jaw clenched. His eyes were watering.

"You're supposed to ask someone before shooting your load all over their face, Spock. A lot of people don't like that, myself included. God dammit, go get me a washcloth."

When Spock returned with a damp washcloth, Jim dabbed at his face, making sure to clean his eyes as thoroughly as he could. After a few minutes of silence in which Spock knew not to speak to Jim, Jim finally opened his eyes, which had become red and puffy.

"Where did you hear that humans liked facials?"

"I saw several videos on the nets…"

Amazingly, Jim laughed, albeit bitterly. "Rule number one of sexual exploration, Spock: don't take ideas from porn."

He got up and walked into the bathroom. Spock heard the sound of a faucet running and Jim cursing under his breath. After a minute he came out and threw the washcloth at Spock, who ducked.

"What the hell am I supposed to tell Bones?"

He went back into the bathroom and started the shower.


	6. Sulu and Chekhov I

Six months. Six goddamned months of romance, wining and dining, vanilla sex, and sweet nothings was the price Hikaru had to pay for tonight.

That's not fair, he thought to himself. You can't complain about any of that because you liked it.

That was true. Hikaru adored Pasha more than any other person alive, and he'd loved the dinner dates in their quarters, teaching him to fence, and sitting on the observation deck discussing Russian literature with their pinky fingers entwined. He also liked the gentle lovemaking that inevitably followed those hours spent together. He'd been Pasha's first, and he had been as gentle and tender as that honorable position called for.

But still, every person had their own individual needs, and his sweet Russian boyfriend had _finally_ acquiesced to indulging Hikaru's favorite fantasy.

He mentally checked off the items as he packed his bag:

Two pairs of handcuffs. Check. (He'd called in a favor from Lt. Giotto to get specialty bedroom handcuffs.)

Small riding crop. Check.

Blindfold. Check.

Small vibrator. Check.

He pulled the drawstring bag closed and quickly glanced at his reflection in the mirror, then walked to Pasha's quarters. Before knocking, he ran over the conversation they'd had about tonight in his mind. No bruising hands, neck, or face. No serious hair pulling. No insulting Mother Russia. And of course, no sex without adequate preparation. Hikaru was fine with all these rules; he didn't want to play out a scene when his partner wasn't comfortable with what was happening.

He knocked, and the adorably accented voice from his dreams answered, "Come in!"

He took a deep breath and opened the door. Pasha was sitting on the bed, hands on his knees. He was clearly trying not to smile and failing horribly. Hikaru winked at him, and Pasha blushed. "Are you absolutely sure you're okay with this?"

Pasha nodded. "It did sound fun. I haff been practicing in my head all day."

God, that was hot.

Hikaru dropped his bag on the floor and quickly kissed him. "You're going to do great, baby." He pulled back suddenly and narrowed his eyes. Game time.

"However, I'm very curious as to why you're wearing a Starfleet officer's uniform," he said sharply.

Pasha looked confused for a second then smiled crookedly.

"I am an officer, sir, don't you haff a file on me? I graduated from ze Academy, like you."

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. "I do have your file, Mr. Chekhov. There's a note on it that says you died three years ago on Earth."

Pasha looked shocked (a credit to his acting chops). "I—I don't know what you mean! I am Pavel Andreievich Chekhov! I am no imposter."

"You are an imposter," Hikaru sneered. "And you know what?" He leaned into close to Pasha, who gulped. "I think you're a spy."

He shoved Pasha down on his back while simultaneously grabbing the goody bag he'd brought with him. "Now, you can tell me who you're working for, or you can be interrogated. And I promise you, I'll enjoy the interrogation more than you will."

Pasha narrowed his eyes. "Do your worst. I am not having any secrets."

Hikaru grabbed a pair of handcuffs and one of Pasha's wrists. Pasha pretended to struggle while Hikaru handcuffed one of his arms to one of the mounts of the low shelf above Pasha's bed. He ignored Pasha's Russian curses when he handcuffed the other arm.

Pasha was spread out below him on his bed, looking completely and perfectly ready for debauching.

Hikaru ripped off his shirt and then grabbed the riding crop. He wouldn't whip Pasha, of course, but a few smacks never hurt anyone.

"Let's start with the basics," he said while running the crop through his fingers. "What's your real name?"

"Pavel Chekhov. You are knowing this already."

Hikaru tutted and put down the crop. He leaned down and firmly grasped Pavel's collar and ripped his shirt with all his strength. They'd agreed that Hikaru would pay for a new one later— and it was _so_ worth it.

Pasha gaped at his ripped shirt and bare chest. Hikaru took the crop and moved the edges of the ruined garment aside, exposing Pasha's small pink nipples. He playfully smacked one.

"Wrong answer. Keep lying to me, and you'll lose more than your shirt." He twirled the riding crop. "Who are you working for?"

Pasha glared at him defiantly. "I am telling you nothing. You cannot make me talk."

Pasha lost his pants for that, and got a few whacks for good measure.

Several more questions and angry retorts were exchanged, and finally Pasha was completely naked. Hikaru looked pointedly at his boyfriend's hard-on.

"I think I just found out how to make you talk, boy," he murmured. "Obviously you _like_ being interrogated." Pasha's eyes widened.

"It is nothing! I'll never talk to you!"

Hikaru fished the vibrator out of the bag and examined it. "Oh, I think you will."

He took a little bottle of lube out of his pocket and squeezed some on the vibrator and then knelt between Pasha's splayed legs. He put some lube on his finger and slipped a finger inside Pasha, reveling in the way the Russian squirmed and sighed.

"You little whore," he breathed. "You'd give up all your secrets for a fucking, wouldn't you?"

He inserted another finger and gently stretched him. Pasha's eyes were closed and he was muttering in Russian, cheeks and chest flushed red. It was a gorgeous sight.

"Are you going to tell me what you know, or do I have to use this?" He held up the shiny vibrator. Pasha pretended to spit at him, and Hikaru pretended to wipe his face.

"Very well."

He slowly pushed the vibrator into Pasha, who arched his back involuntarily. Hikaru clicked the vibrator on, and Pasha cried out.

"Don't think you can get pity out of me," Hikaru warned. "I have all day for this."

"You cannot—nnngh—you will not…"

Hikaru reached between Pasha's legs and clicked the vibrator to the second setting, and Pasha writhed. The vibrator was just touching his prostate, and the pleasure was very near pain.

Hikaru knelt between Pasha's knees, grabbing his thighs and holding his legs down. Pasha looked at him, his face covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"Will you tell me everything if I make you come?"

"No! I cannot betray them!"

Hikaru started sucking Pasha's cock. His ran his tongue along the underside from the base to the tip, making Pavel shudder. When the whimpering grew heavy and uneven, Hikaru stopped.

"Will you tell me?"

"Yes!" Pasha struggled against the handcuffs, but they held firm. "_Sosi ebanataya suka_!"

Hikaru didn't know what that meant, but it sounded hot. He bent down again and sucked some more. When he fondled Pasha's testicles, the young man was undone—he came hard and fast down Hikaru's throat.

Hikaru swallowed everything Pasha had to give, and then he sat up and took the vibrator out. Pasha breathed contentedly for a moment, then lifted his head up and looked Hikaru square in the eye.

"You Starfleet _huesos_. You fell for my game. I am having no intention to tell you my secrets, and now I am satisfied and you are still knowing nothing." He grinned.

Hikaru's jaw dropped. That was _not_ part of the scene they'd discussed.

"Is…is that so?" Flexibility was key in these situations.

Pasha wiggled his hips. "I may be handcuffed to zis bed, but _I_ am in charge. I am making you pleasure me. No matter what, _you_ are _my_ little _shluha vokzal'naja_._"_

A surge of pride filled Hikaru, and then six months' worth of suppressed domination urges. He unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor with an ominous thud.

"I think you need a lesson on who's in charge here," he said quietly. Pasha just quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

"You talk and you talk, but I am seeing no action. Where is ze strength of Starfleet? Where is ze iron will? You say I will not like zis interrogation, but I am somehow coming down _your_ throat."

Hikaru made a mental note to buy Pasha something expensive later.

The sex was rough and, honestly, quite passionate. Scene or no scene, Hikaru loved this sweet specimen of humanity, and Pasha loved him back. Hikaru didn't last long; the build-up and unexpected twist the scene had taken drove him to the brink while his pants were still on. He came with a groan and Pasha moaned beneath him. He'd once said that he loved the sensation of being filled with cum.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes. Hikaru eventually sat up and stretched.

"Did I ever tell you that you're amazing?"

Pavel pretended to ponder that. "I think you might haff said it once, but you should tell me again."

Hikaru leaned down and kissed Pasha deeply. "You're amazing," he whispered. He kissed Pasha's forehead. "You're amazing." He kissed his eyes, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, each time repeating the words.

Pasha's cheeks were the faintest pink. "I am also sore. Uncuff me, warden!" He giggled.

Hikaru laughed and reached over to unlock the handcuffs. Bedroom handcuffs had a little lever for easy removal, just like toy handcuffs children received in mock-police sets.

The lever wasn't there.

He immediately looked at the other set. It didn't have a safety lever, either.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Hikaru said through gritted teeth. "Giotto gave me real handcuffs."

"What?!"

"Yeah, I asked for fake handcuffs and that fucker gave me real ones. No key, of course."

"Well, go get the key," Pasha said with a sigh.

Hikaru was half-dressed when the emergency alert klaxon sounded throughout the entire ship.

It was a priority alert. Yells and the sounds of running were all around them. Hikaru and Pasha shared a look of horror before Hikaru threw on his clothes.

"Hikaru, we both have to be on the bridge in three minutes!"

"I know that, Pavel! Goddammit, where is my other boot?"

"Forget the boot! Go get ze key! GO!"

Hikaru sprinted out of the room with only one boot on.

* * *

Translations:

"Sosi ebanataya suka!" - Suck it, you fucking whore!

huesos - cock sucker

shluha vokzal'naja - train station whore

I wonder if Hikaru would think Pavel was so cute and innocent if he knew what he was really saying.


	7. Spock and Uhura I

Commander Spock was unsure, and he did not like to be unsure.

He was unsure of Nyota's intentions. He was unsure of his own intentions. He was unsure of how to pleasure a human woman. He was unsure of whether a prophylactic was even necessary, since hybrids were almost always sterile. He was unsure of how to ask Nyota to lick his hands while they were in bed.

When Nyota stepped out of her panties, he was unsure of how long he would last. He'd never had sex before.

He hadn't seen very many human women nude, but somehow he knew that she was uncommonly well-proportioned. Her legs were satiny and unbelievably long, coming together to form a torso comprised of a flat belly, round breasts crowned with pert nipples, and a collarbone he suddenly wanted to lick. What an odd thing to want.

Of course, her face was her crowning glory. No woman had a face as beautiful as Nyota Uhura's.

Nyota was saying something, and Spock heard himself answering, but he couldn't quite make out the words. His eyes were stuck on the way her breasts jiggled as she walked towards him. He was sitting up in the bed, back against the headboard. He'd divested himself of his clothes already.

She crawled towards him. Her buttocks swayed nicely.

He swallowed. She grinned, eyes sparkling.

"Shake your head, baby. Your eyes are stuck."

Again he heard the words, but it was as though his brain was frozen. He couldn't stop staring at her body.

His aching erection desperately wanted him to do something about his lust-induced brain freeze, though. He could swear that it was throbbing. He'd never been this hard in his life, not even when he was an adolescent and he'd seen a picture of a naked Vulcan woman in an anatomy text book.

Nyota laughed quietly and clambered on top of his legs, though they were still under the sheet. "If you're going to look, you might as well touch. I'm not a museum piece."

Spock reached towards her, unsure of where to start. He settled for her breast, which was deliciously firm. He stroked her nipple and she moaned.

"Touch me more, Spock. Anywhere you want."

Feeling a little bolder, he ran his other hand down her side and caressed her hip, dipping dangerously near the thatch of dark hair between her legs. He knew he wouldn't last if his sensitive fingers met wet folds.

He suddenly leaned forward and kissed her, tangling in her hair. She breathed his name and matched his passion. They kissed hungrily and desperately, not caring about the sloppy wet noises they were making.

Nyota let go of Spock's head and her hand disappeared under the sheet.

Spock felt her cool hand on his penis and struggled to contain a massive shudder. No wonder humans talked about sex constantly; this was the _best thing ever_.

Nyota pulled back a tiny bit. "Don't hold in what you're feeling, Spock. Let it be. This is our time."

She kissed his wrist, and then sucked on his index finger.

It was too much. Spock came with a strangled cry, staining the underside of the sheet. Nyota shifted to the side and bit her lip. "Um…I guess you really like having your fingers sucked?"

Spock nodded and panted a little.

"We'll, uh, take a break while you reset." She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide her smile.

Spock lifted up the sheet. "Perhaps we should change the sheets, too."

Nyota rolled her eyes a trifle and went to the linen closet, muttering something about virgins.


	8. Kirk and Spock III

Christmas always brought out Jim's inner bottle fairy.

He brought a bottle of Merlot, a case of beer, and some wine coolers to the observation deck for their "Christmas party for two". Spock brought a thermos of hot chocolate. After a quick introduction to the idea of ridiculous toasts, they toasted every stupid thing they could think of. After half an hour, it got hard to think about anything.

"To starships!" Jim raised his glass, apparently unaware that it was already empty. Spock stared very hard at it.

"I think we toasted starships."

"Oh…well, to starships…again!"

They clinked their glasses and promptly dropped them.

Uhura found them a few minutes later and shooed them out of the observation deck, threatening them with everything from court martials to citations for conduct unbecoming. Jim just stuck out his tongue at her and grabbed Spock by the hand. They made their way to Jim's quarters, swaying more than a little.

When they were inside, Jim led Spock to his bed. He sat down and was confused by how far the bed was; it seemed so much closer to him when he was standing.

Something ate at the back of his mind. It was important. No, it was vital. There was a question he had to ask Spock, and he had to ask it _right now_.

"Spock, what do you want for Christmas?"

Yep, that was it.

Spock blinked at Jim several times, mouthing the words. He leaned forward unsteadily. "I already have you, Jim. Jim Kirk. That's a lovely name. I have a captain with a lovely name."

They more or less fell into a sloppy kiss. Jim struggled to unbutton Spock's pants—his fingers wouldn't obey his mind and the room was spinning. Spock eventually just ripped his fly open, and Jim started kissing his cock instead.

Spock tried to recline on his elbows but fell flat on his back. He said something in Vulcan and didn't get up.

Jim's inebriation didn't allow him to see something as subtle as his boyfriend collapsing and speaking in another language, so he kept going. He decided that this year he'd give Spock a gift he couldn't wrap: the best blow job ever. He took a deep breath and inclined his head to allow himself to deep throat.

And then he vomited everywhere.

Spock lifted his head up and they both stared at the mess in stunned silence.

"Dude. Sorry,"Jim said, eyes wide. To him the damage was twice as bad because he was seeing two of everything. "Please don't break up with me."

Spock put his head back down and was asleep in seconds. Jim tried to wipe away the mess around Spock's crotch but missed the area entirely, only hitting air. After a few swipes, he shrugged and went to sleep next to Spock.


	9. Sulu and Chekhov II

The away mission had gone well, all things considered.

The natives of whatever little planet they were orbiting believed that curly hair was a sign of divinity (Pavel couldn't begin to guess how that had come up in conversation), so naturally he had been ordered to beam down and be present at a few meetings and ceremonies. Notably, he'd been asked to carry around the High Priestess—a toddler—for a ritual blessing of the harvest. His presence was considered auspicious.

Carrying the fat child for three hours had taken its toll, though. Pavel was tired and sore. He wasn't feeling at all up to the vicious wall sex he'd promised Hikaru that morning. Truthfully, all he felt up to was a hot bath and a foot massage. Unfortunately for him, there were no baths in space, and Hikaru gave terrible massages.

As soon as he walked into his quarters, he knew that some kind of sex was in his immediate future if he was amenable. A flameless candle was flickering on his bedside table, and his permenantly-horny boyfriend was sitting crosslegged on his bed in a black bathrobe.

"Hello, your Supreme Divinity," Hikaru crooned in a low, mock-sultry tone.

Pavel rolled his eyes. "Don't you start zat, too. I am wery tired and in no mood for whatewer you are planning."

Hikaru clasped his hands over his heart. "Pavel, you wound me. When have I ever planned something?"

"The fact zat you haff no clothes on under zat robe tells me you are planning something."

Hikaru merely shrugged off the robe, exposing his handsome body. Pavel's cock twitched, though his face remained impassive. He wasn't closed to compromise. "Well…if you are so lusty zat you must haff sex or you will die, I will giff you a blow job. But zen you must hold me and say nice things to me."

Hikaru smiled warmly and grabbed Pavel's face, kissing him breathless. Tired as he was, Pavel loved a good make-out—he was quickly as hard as Hikaru. Maybe a little bit of sex wasn't out of the question…

Pavel sank to his knees and started the promised blow job. Hikaru gently held Pavel's head in his hands, guiding his boyfriend's expert mouth.

After a minute, Pavel pulled away. "I haff changed my mind." His cheeky little grin told Hikaru _exactly _what he meant.

Hikaru lifted him up and playfully dumped him on the bed. Pavel bounced a bit and laughed while kicking off his pants. Soon he was naked and digging around under his pillow for his favorite bottle of lube. He tossed it to Hikaru. "I know you are excited, but if you do not prep me enough, I will reprogram ze replicators to only giff you decaf coffee when you order regular coffee."

Hikaru cracked up. "Oh my. The little god has an attitude."

"You better belief it, mister."

As soon as prep was out of the way, Pavel was on his hands and knees. Hikaru fucked him in earnest, thrilled that his pretty boyfriend had come around to his way of thinking. He'd been lonely all day, stuck on the ship while Pavel got to be part of a First Contact.

Even though Pavel was enjoying the sex, his arms were shaking with fatigue. Doggy-style didn't help the tension in his muscles at all, and every thrust against his prostate—though lovingly given—made his whole body tremble. _Hikaru is near climax_, Pavel assured himself. _You can make it._

Pavel's arms collapsed without warning. Pavel tumbled forward with Hikaru inside him, and a tiny pop came somewhere. A terrible pain filled Pavel's mouth and he could taste blood.

"Pleeth get off," Pavel said with some difficulty. He'd bitten his tongue and it was swelling rapidly. It hurt like a bitch, too.

Hikaru moaned loudly. He was still inside Pavel, so the Russian scooted forward to free himself. Hikaru made a noise that was a combination of a shriek and a sob. Pavel sighed. "I bip my thung open, and iz bleeding preddy bad. Whuz wrong wis you?"

Hikaru sobbed and pointed to his penis. It was flaccid, dark purple, and bent at an odd angle. Pavel's jaw dropped and blood flowed down his chin. "_Chyort voz'mi_! I am calling ze doctor."

Dr. McCoy crossed his arms and glared down at the two young men moaning pathetically on the bed.

Pavel blushed under his gaze. "We were, ah…"

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Save it. You were having rough sex, and _you_—" he pointed at Pavel, "—took a tumble and _you_—" he pointed at Hikaru, who was holding his crotch and moaning, "—came tumbling after. And broke your crown, too."

Pavel swallowed. "What is wrong with him?"

Dr. McCoy stifled a laugh while he sent a message on a PADD to Nurse Chapel to ready a biobed. "You tell me, Mr. Chekhov. What's Russian for 'penile fracture?'"

("Perelom polovogo chlena," Pavel mumbled sadly.)


	10. Bones and Carol III

Carol stood in the doorway to Leonard's office clad in her blue science officer's uniform. She wasn't wearing the black undershirt. Leonard looked up from the report he was writing on a recent outbreak of influenza, then went back to writing.

"You know, you're technically break the uniform code right now," he said mildly. "The undershirt may be itchy, but it's required." Every once in a while Spock reduced some poor crewman to tears over those stupid shirts. He didn't want Carol to the target of the hobgoblin's ire yet again.

Carol pouted and closed the door, locking it behind her. "I know, but I was hot. I left it in my room with my bra and knickers."

Leonard stopped typing.

Carol cocked her head to the side, eyes wide and innocent. "That's okay with you, right? I don't want to get in trouble for being _naughty_."

Heavens above, he loved this woman.

Leonard folded his hands in front of him on his desk and looked sternly at the beautiful woman standing across from him. He cleared his throat.

"As a matter of fact, miss, you have been naughty. I simply cannot permit you to walk around in such a state. Other crewmembers will get ideas, and it could affect the morale of the crew." He sighed heavily. "I must insist that you remove your uniform immediately."

With a dramatic gasp, Carol unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. Leonard swiveled his chair around a bit. "Come sit on my lap while I figure out what your punishment should be."

Carol practically skipped over to him and sat demurely on his lap, her breasts bouncing just the tiniest bit. She put her arms around his neck while he rested his hands on her waist. Grinding into his hardened crotch a little bit, she looked at him inquisitively. "You won't make my punishment too bad, will you?"

Leonard smiled crookedly. "Sorry, darlin'. You've earned a spanking." He smacked her bottom and she pretended to wipe away a tear. "Anything but that, daddy!"

A mental record scratch.

_What_ did she just call him?

A number of things raced through Leonard's mind: a little girl taking her first shaking steps, urged on by the words "walk to daddy! You're almost there, daddy's got you". That same girl, slightly older, sprinting down a hallway towards her father after a thirty-six hour rotation at the hospital, yelling "Daddy! Daddy!" at the top of her lungs.

And then newer, darker images floated to the surface—those of Carol's "daddy." He recalled the bitter terror he felt for himself and his coworkers when Admiral Marcus sentenced them to death. He remembered signing one-hundred thirty five death certificates. He saw his best friend, his brother in uniform and in his heart, lying pale and still on a slab. All because of Admiral Marcus.

Leonard's erection wilted completely.

Carol looked at his horrified expression, down to his crotch, and then back at his face. "Um…I'll just get dressed, then," she said, hopping down. After she'd dressed, she took out Leonard's favorite bourbon from his desk drawer and poured a little of it in a shot glass. "Here, sweetie, drink this."


	11. Sulu and Chekhov III

Pavel fidgeted on the biobed, craning his neck to see if Dr. McCoy was finally ready to see him. He didn't want to be here; he was _supposed _to be having sex right now. However, he'd been exposed to the alien-swarm-computer-virus-disease…thing (what the hell _was_ that?), so he had to get checked out. CMO's orders.

Dr. McCoy finally made his way to him. He smiled kindly while waving the tricorder over him and explained the readings. "You have a high amount of that gunk in your system, but don't worry, me and the other medical geeks whipped up a special somethin' to counteract it." He took a small bottle out of his pocket and rattled it. It was full of pills. "Take one tonight after dinner. Some people have complained of mood swings, so if you suddenly feel like flipping a table or crying a river, it's probably just the meds. You'll be right as rain tomorrow."

"Thank you, doctor," Pavel said, shaking his hand. "Haff a good night."

"You too, ensign. Don't let that boyfriend of yours talk you into anything crazy tonight. You need your rest."

"I won't," he said brightly, mentally crossing his fingers. As soon as he was out of the medbay he popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it. He'd be skipping dinner.

"The safeword is 'horseradish'. If you say it, I'll stop whatever I'm doing right away." Hikaru was carefully sorting through his goody bag while Pavel sat on the bed, looking at his fingernails.

"_Da_, I know what a safeword is, Hikaru," Pavel grumbled, inexplicably annoyed. Did Hikaru always have to start playtime with a lecture? "Are you going to tell me how to put on my safety belt and where ze emergency exits are, too?"

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. "Someone's saucy tonight."

His frustration left as quickly as it had come. He took a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry for being short. Ze mission was long, I did not want to go to ze medbay for ze checkup, and I want to start now."

All this was true, but Pavel knew that it was out of character for him to be sharp over trivialities. "Also," he said slowly, "I think ze pill I took might haff caused a mood swing."

Hikaru thought that over. "Would you like to wait until later? It's no problem."

"What did I _just_—no," Pavel said, taking another calming breath. "Just ignore me if I seem mad or something. It is only ze pill, and I luff you wery much." He stood up and walked over to Hikaru. "And I want to be treated like ze bad boy I am." He pinched Hikaru's ass to illustrate his point.

Pavel knelt naked on the floor, bound and blindfolded. Hikaru circled him slowly, twirling his favorite riding crop. He was fully dressed.

"I told you to call me 'master', yet you will only call me 'sir.' Why do you make me punish you?" He knelt down in front of Pavel and stroked his cock, causing him to tremble lightly. "I could just as easily reward you. I want to." He leaned right next to Pavel's ear. "Just call me master." The whispered words seemed almost like a plea.

Pavel jutted out his chin, defiant as always. "You are not my master. You are a dog. You should thank me for calling your 'sir.'"

Hikaru almost busted a lung from holding in his laughter. Nobody was a submissive quite like Pavel Chekhov.

After he calmed down a bit, he took a ball gag out of his good bag. "If I'm a dog, why are you the one being muzzled?"

Before Pavel could ask what he meant, Hikaru stuffed the gag in Pavel's mouth and secured it.

Hikaru loved it. Pavel wasn't so sure.

They had never discussed gags before, and they'd agreed to _always_ discuss additions to their scenes. Pavel was never comfortable with the idea of gags—snarky backtalk and Russian profanity was how he kept his control. It made him feel equal to Hikaru even when he was tied and being hit with a riding crop.

Didn't Hikaru understand that?

Anger and betrayal fought for dominance inside Pavel's mind. He was not comfortable with this. He didn't feel safe. He was impotent and helpless. He wanted to stop.

But he couldn't say the safeword because Hikaru had gagged him.

To his utter horror, Hikaru chose that moment to announce that Pavel had earned a punishment from the vibrator. They'd played this scene many times, and it always included a "punishment" from the vibrator. Pavel would struggle and curse and fight until Hikaru subdued him. It was always terrific fun.

Now, the fight was real.

Pavel yelled against the gag, but all he could manage was "Mmmf!" He writhed against his bindings. When that failed, he desperately tried to rub his blindfold off with his shoulder. Hikaru's hand grasped his shoulder and tipped him forward onto his stomach.

Pavel panicked.

He rolled onto his back (which hurt tremendously because his hands were tied) and kicked wildly in any direction he could, yelling into the gag. The muffled words weren't in Standard anymore. Russian vitriol poured through his mind. He was breathing furiously through his nose, and then…suddenly…he wasn't.

His windpipe had constricted to the size of a drinking straw.

Pavel stopped kicking and yelling into the gag. He stopped all movement to focus on breathing through his nose. His heart broke as he realized that he had to choose between being able to breathe and what was basically rape.

Hikaru said something that Pavel didn't catch; he was focused solely on getting air into his lungs. It took several seconds of inhaling to get the equivalent of a normal breath.

Hikaru touched his thigh. Pavel kicked him in the solar plexus.

_Consider that my fucking safe gesture_, Pavel thought.

Hikaru yelped and stumbled backwards, stunned. He took a minute to take in his boyfriend; he'd gone very still, aside from the kick. It was unlike him to be violent during their scenes—neither of them were comfortable with it. It was a red flag, and Hikaru considered everything that had happened up to that point. If Pavel were in distress, surely he'd say the—

_Oh shit_.

Hikaru ripped the gag off Pavel. He gasped for air, gulping it down as though he hadn't breathed in ages. His breathing was labored. Hikaru's growing dread did not abate.

He gently removed the blindfold. Furious, accusing eyes met his and the weight of his mistake fell on him like a heavy blanket. He'd fucked up bad.

He untied Pavel's hands—and Pavel attacked. He swung wildly at Hikaru, yelling in Russian and wiping his face. Hikaru let him, but the damage was minimal because after a few seconds Pavel doubled over, gasping for breath.

"G…get…doc…tor…_now_."

Hikaru hastily draped a blanket over his boyfriend's shoulders and commed Dr. McCoy.

The Captain opened his friend's office door and poked his head in. "Shift's over, Bones. Got time to gossip like old ladies? More importantly, got any booze?"

His friend laughed and quickly stowed away the love letter he'd been writing for Carol. "Why do you even ask anymore? Come on in, put your feet up. But don't actually put your feet up."

They drank bourbon and chatted about Bones' love life. Eventually Bones asked about life on the bridge.

Jim sipped his bourbon thoughtfully. "Mostly we're fine…but I swear, something happened between Sulu and Chekhov. They're not talking to each other."

Bones frowned. "Why not? How long has that been going on?"

"About a week, I'd say. One morning they showed up for shift and Sulu was really nice to Chekhov, but Chekhov gave him this _look_, man. Like, it was a you're-only-alive-because-murder-is-illegal look. And then later when I asked Sulu a question that he answered 'no' to, Chekhov said, '_eesn't eet so nice to be able to say 'no'_?" Bones inhaled sharply, but Jim laughed and continued, "I thought Sulu was going to cry."

Bones remembered how angry Chekhov had seemed the night he'd given him a hypospray to bring down the swelling in his throat caused by the pill. He hoped he'd never see Chekhov in his medbay for anything more serious than an allergic reaction.

Bones put the dark thought aside and topped off Jim's glass. "It sounds like a communication issue. I'm sure they'll work it out."


	12. Scotty and Nyota II

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…"

Scotty sang to himself while Nyota carried a little paper plate with a frosted cupcake on it to the tiny table in the kitchenette. She placed it in front of him and blew a kiss. "Sweets for the sweet," she said before kissing his forehead. "Happy birthday, baby."

Scotty oohed and ahhed like a good boyfriend. "This is a really wonderful," he exclaimed while admiring the chocolate treat. "Is it real?"

'Real' meant 'non-replicated.'

"Yes, sir! It's one-hundred percent genuine flour, butter, sugar, and more. Lenny helped me make it. Who knew that man could bake?"

Scotty kissed her hand. "It's a wonderful gift. I'm really touched."

Nyota shook her head. "Nope. That's not your gift. Well, it's _one_ of your gifts."

Scotty looked pleasantly surprised. "What's the other one? Can I see it now?"

Nyota smiled enigmatically and disappeared underneath the table. Scotty felt her unzip his pants and then her hot breath on his cock.

"You are a goddess," he breathed. He leaned back in his chair and luxuriated in the way she swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock.

He was vaguely calculating the odds of her saying 'yes' to anal when Nyota sneezed.

And then sneezed again.

Scotty yelled and jumped up. Angry red bite marks dotted his penis in neat little curves, marking the perfect outline of Nyota's teeth. She was still sneezing.

He whimpered a little and walked awkwardly to the bathroom, eyes watering. He wet a washcloth and placed it over his penis. Nyota was _still_ sneezing.

"I'm so sorry—" sneeze "—Scotty. I don't know what—" sneeze "—happened, I must be allergic to—" sneeze "something in here."

Scotty dabbed at his bleeding flesh and winced. "It hurts, but I'll live. I suppose you could've bitten it off. I'm grateful I don't have to explain _that_ to Dr. McCoy."

Nyota laughed between sneezes and Scotty commed the doctor.


	13. Spock and Uhura II

Nyota shucked off her clothes in the bathroom and pulled on a transparent bathrobe she'd purchased from a fancy lingerie shop downtown. She brushed her long, shimmering hair and touched up her makeup.

Tonight was her first anniversary with Spock. She fully expected the best sex of her life, and she wanted to look her best.

She practiced a few 'sexy' poses in the mirror before settling on one. After one last glance in the mirror, she strolled casually into the bedroom, twirling the tie of her robe.

"Hey there, sexy."

Spock was fussing with the thermostat again. She tried not to roll her eyes when she walked over to him.

"Honey, if you want to get hotter, you just have to come to bed with me." She lazily placed her hand on his arm. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I do not think sleep will—" A look from Nyota. "Oh. Yes, of course. I would love to engage in sexual intercourse with you."

They were going to work on innuendo tomorrow.

She led him with both hands to the bed, and to his credit he did have a gleam in his eyes when he looked her up and down. She grinned.

"If you want me, you've gotta come and get me, tiger."

"I am not a—I mean, yes, of course." He pounced on her, albeit gently. She shrieked with laughter and fell on the bed with him on top of her.

They rolled around on the bed for a while, kissing and petting each other. Spock carefully pulled off her robe and threw it across the room, then set about kissing a trail down her collar bone and onto her breasts

"Spock, touch me. I want to feel your fingers inside me."

He obliged, and Nyota gasped when two fingers slipped inside and found her g-spot. He nibbled behind her ear.

After much foreplay, they were both ready for the real fun. Nyota climbed on top of him and guided him inside her. She closed her eyes and breathed in happily. He was so big; the fullness was delicious.

She started moving up and down, her toes curling.

_Yes,_ she thought. _Yes, yes yes yes…_

_Pfft_

The fuck was that?

It sounded like a little fart, but she hadn't dealt it, and she didn't think it was Spock, either.

She continued moving, and again a little farting noise came from between her legs.

Holy hell, it _was_ her.

Spock was looking at her crotch, bewildered.

"Nyota, is your vagina expelling flatulence?"

If Nyota had a boner, it would've gone flaccid at that moment. "No, vaginas don't…expel flatulence. Whatever, let's keep going."

Spock nodded and Nyota determinedly kept riding him. After a minute:

Pfft.

Pfft.

"What _is_ that?" Nyota climbed off and Spock sat up, confused as she was.

"Your vagina is, essentially, hollow. Perhaps the rapid thrusting of my penis caused air to be expelled so quickly that it mimicked flatulence."

"Stop saying flatulence," Nyota begged. "My crotch was not farting."

"Your vagina and your crotch are not, technically, the same thing."

Nyota couldn't help it; she started laughing. "When I'm old I'm going to look back on this night and all I'll remember is my farting vagina."

She hugged Spock, who paused and then hugged her back.

"Farting vaginas," she murmured, then laughed some more.

Spock studied his PADD. "I was correct, it is called vaginal flatulence."

Nyota threw a pillow at him.


	14. Physical Pain

Carol and Leonard worked past midnight in his office. He hadn't had time to organize the files, boxes, tiny science kits, stray hyposprays, and other sundries in over three weeks. Carol insisted that she be able to sit when she visited him, and she volunteered to help him tidy up.

Four hours after they began, they sat down in newly-clear chairs and surveyed the room. The clutter had been either catalogued or "binned", as Carol called it much to Leonard's amusement.

"You know, us doctors have a centuries-old tradition for breaking in a new office, which I think this counts as now," Leonard said, turning to Carol.

"Really? What's that?" She was always interested in Leonard's tidbits of medical history.

"We have sex on our desks."

"You are so full of shit."

Leonard stood up and swept the few papers and pens off his desk in one motion. "What do you say, darlin'?"

Carol simply crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, grinning wickedly. "I'll only have a desk shag if you do that thing you did with your fingers last time."

"Deal," he said. "Computer, lock door."

Carol squealed and pulled off her dress and boots. She beat Leonard in getting undressed, so she helped him strip.

"Lady, you are the horniest person I've ever met," he said as she threw his shirt in the trashcan.

"It's only because you're the hottest person I've ever met," she replied while pulling down his boxers.

He picked her up and placed her gently on the desk. In truth, it wasn't that comfortable. She was used to soft mattresses, or at least a carpet. Still, sex was sex, and she was happy for it. She spread her legs; she was already wet.

"Make me feel like a woman, doctor," she purred, winking.

They had sex fast and rough, and a little awkwardly. The angle just wasn't right. Leonard was heavy. The desk was narrow and her elbow kept slipping off.

Carol tried to scoot in such a way to allow deeper penetration. Instead, she heard a click and felt a sharp, burning pain in her lower back.

"Get off, get off!"

Leonard immediately got off and carefully helped her sit up. Carol teared a bit; her back hurt so badly. A muscle spasmed in her lower back and she whimpered. "Get our clothes. I think I need a real examination."

He dressed quickly and helped her into her clothes. It wasn't easy because her back kept spasmed every time she tried to stand up straight.

"I'll get a tricorder." Leonard hurried out of the room. Carol walked to a chair and painfully sat down.


	15. Mental Pain

"It's called impact play."

"Jim, I don't care what it's called. I'm not going to strike you during sexual intercourse."

"Please? Pretty please?"

"No."

"Oh, come on. Why not?"

"Because I do not believe violence and sexual intercourse should be mixed."

"It's not violence. It's like… it's like causing sensations that enhance sexual intercourse."

"No. I'm too strong. I might injure you."

"You won't. You have excellent control."

"Jim…"

"Spock, if you're really so worried, go ask Sulu and Chekhov about it. They get into all sorts of kinky shit."

"Indeed. And they haven't spoken in nearly a month because of a mishap during sexual foreplay."

"Wait-what? Their fight was over sex?"

An uncomfortable silence.

"I…I'm not supposed to know that. Telepathy can be hard to control at times, especially when the person being overheard is experiencing turbulent emotion."

"Holy shit. What happened?"

"I am not at liberty to say, and you should respect your friends' privacy."

"They had some bad sex and they won't talk to each other for a fucking _month_?"

"Jim, please cease asking me about this."

"Fine. Back to impact play."

"No."

"Listen, Spock, please do this for me. Think of it as returning the favor for all that hand making out you want to do during sex."

Another heavy silence, and then:

"You told me you liked that."

"Well, yeah, it's nice holding your hand during sex, but I'm human. It's just hand-holding to me. But you really like it, so I do it."

"Do you…do you prefer that we not do it?"

"No! No, it's not like that. The point I'm trying to make is that I do it for you, not for my own pleasure. I like making you happy in bed."

Another long pause.

"We can try…we can try impact play. But I request that if after a suitable period of experimentation I remain uncomfortable with the practice, we will stop."

"That's fine. That's just fine. Thank you so much for thinking about it."

Kissing.

"All legitimate materials addressing such sexual behavior strongly encourage a safeword during the encounter."

"We're not going hardcore like that, Spock. If I say stop, I mean stop."

"Affirmative."

Bed springs, then kissing and light moaning. The sound of a bottle being opened, then a faint grunt.

"I love your fingers in me."

A smack.

"Holy shit, do that again."

Another smack.

"The feeling of your muscle around my fingers is enhanced when I strike your buttocks. I confess I find it highly pleasureable."

"You like that, do you? Do it some more."

More smacks. Moaning, from two people.

"Hit me somewhere else."

A smack.

"Okay, not there."

"My apologies."

Slap.

Slap.

"Slap me harder, you dirty Vulcan slut."

A slap, louder.

"The face, eh? Did I strike a nerve?"

"No, I just heard your desire through touch."

"You're the best boyfriend in the universe. Finger me harder."

Gasping and moaning.

"Finger me like you mean it, whore!"

Slap.

Crunch.

A howl.

"JIM!"

"Holy shit fucking hell, _ow_. Ow ow ow_. Fuck_!"

"Jim, please hold still. I believe you have a nasal fracture."

"Ow—don't touch it, Spock! God!"

Running. The sound of a closet opening.

"Here is your robe and a pair of briefs. I am taking you to Dr. McCoy. Taking into account your blood loss, it is best we go to the medical bay instead of waiting for him to come here."

"Yeah, I get that. Oh shit, it's really coming out."

"Please get dressed, Jim. I—I do not like seeing you in such a state."

"Hey, don't look like that. It's going to be fine. It was an accident. Besides, I've had a broken nose before."

"Yes, but never at my hands."

"Actually…"

"Please do not finish that sentence."

"I won't. Com Bones and tell him we're coming. Do not tell him what we're doing."

"Considering that we're in our underwear and my fingers are covered with lubricant, it may not matter."


	16. Emotional Pain

Leonard gently prodded Carol's back. "Tell me if it's tender."

"It's tender there, but not as much as the first place you poked."

"Okey-dokey, how about now?"

"Ow, yes. That's where it keeps spasming."

Leonard sighed. "My best guess is that you wrenched your back."

"'Wrenched?' Is that the technical term?"

Leonard swatter her arm playfully. "Don't tease your doctor when he's the one handing out happy pills. I'll make an appointment for you with one of my colleagues who's better acquainted with chiropractic medicine. The best I can do right now is prescribe you a muscle relaxer."

"Thanks, Len." She sat up on the exam table. "Damn. What a way to end the night."

"We can make it up later, but maybe not on my desk. Frankly, I'm surprised it was you and not me. My bones are old and fragile."

"Don't you start that again."

Leonard was about to full-on snark war when his comm device beeped. "Dr. McCoy, this is Commander Spock. Are you on duty?"

"Technically, no, but what can I do for you?"

If Spock was seeking him at this hour, it could only mean one thing: hijinks, probably of the bloody kind.

"Jim was injured during recreation."

Typical.

"Come on down, Commander."

Carol made to leave, but Leonard stopped her. "It's fine, he's probably just got a rug burn or busted lip or something. Go rest in my office. I won't be a minute."

Three minutes later, Jim and Spock came into the medbay, blood poured down Jim's front. A lesser doctor would've been alarmed. Leonard just snorted. "Dare I ask?"

"It was an accident," Jim and Spock said in unison.

"You two are the dumbest smart people I've ever met, you know that?"

Spock pursed his lips. "Please refrain from insulting our intelligence until after Jim's been attended to. He's bled for 6.8 minutes at a steady rate."

Leonard hauled Jim to a chair and got his kit. After a few minutes and one futile attempt to shoo Spock, Leonard handed Jim a cold pack. "The fracture'll have to be set, so you're going to look funny for a while."

He busied himself with making the appropriate sets for Jim. "So are you going to tell me what the hell you were up to, or do I have to guess and decide it was something lurid?"

Before Jim could answer, Carol called from his office. "Honey? I'm coming out to get those relaxers right now. My back is acting up again."

Jim waggled his eyebrows at Leonard. "Ooh, did we interrupt something? It's not every day the doctor gets an after-hours visitor."

Carol appeared in the doorway. "No, you didn't interrupt. My back did."

Leonard blushed. "No need to overshare, sweetheart."

"Looks like nobody's getting laid tonight," Jim muttered to Spock. Spock's ears blushed green at the tips.

Leonard blanched. "I was kidding about the lurid thing. Please don't tell me you broke your nose during sex."

"You're one to talk, Leonard. You broke your girlfriend's back, apparently."

Carol laughed. "Stop it, you two."

"Doctor McCoy?"

Pavel stood at the entrance to the room, looking very small. Everyone's head turned towards him and he flinched. "I will come back later."

Leonard shook his head. "No need, son. These jokers were about to leave. I just have to fix up this guy's nose."

Pavel looked at Jim, taking in his bloodied state. "Keptin, are you okay?"

Jim grinned. "I'm fine. I just got into a fight with a Klingon."

Pavel didn't smile. He looked distinctly uncomfortable standing in the center of attention.

Carol cleared her throat. "Come on in to the office with me, Mr. Chekhov. Leonard will be done with the Captain in just a minute."

Pavel nodded and they walked into the small room and closed the door.

Leonard finished patching up Jim's nose and washed his hands. "Go to your quarters, go to sleep. For heaven's sake, don't have sex."

Spock and Jim blushed.

As they left, Leonard cleaned up while muttering to himself. "Can't anyone do the dirty on this ship without breaking a hip or something?"

* * *

"What's going on with you tonight, Mr. Chekhov? I take it you're here to see me because something's wrong."

Carol had quietly excused herself when Leonard walked into his office, and Pavel realized he'd never been truly alone with Dr. McCoy. He suddenly felt very insignificant.

"I am haffing a problem. A personal problem. I was hoping you could help with some medicine."

Leonard furrowed his eyebrows. "Could you elaborate? Tell me what's going on and I'll see what I can do."

Pavel looked at his shoes. "I broke up with Hikaru tonight."

The doctor couldn't hide the disappointment he felt. "I'm so sorry to hear that, son. How are you feeling?"

"Terrible. That is why I am here." He seemed to think about something for a moment. "No, that is not why. I am here because I haff been feeling terrible for a month. Angry and sad and scared for so many weeks, and it is hard to concentrate on anything, and I do not want Keptin Kirk to fire me because of a fight."

"I take it you broke up with Mr. Sulu because of this fight."

"Yes. No. It was lots of things."

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened?"

Shameful as it was, Leonard wanted to know what could drive those two apart. They always seemed so loving and happy.

Pavel crossed him arms. "Hikaru…he…we were…" He blushed crimson. "You will not think badly of me?"

Leonard shook his head. "Believe me, Pavel, you could not shock me if you wanted to. I guarantee that whatever you're about to tell, I've seen and heard worse."

Pavel nodded. "Okay. Hikaru and I were haffing our fun and he didn't ask me if he could make me wear a gag, and zen I got scared, but I couldn't say ze safeword because I was wearing a _fucking_ gag, and zen I could not breathe because of zat pill, and I had to kick him to make him see zat I was _scared_!"

His speech had gradually sped up and gotten louder, until he almost shouted the last word.

Leonard stared at Pavel, unsure of how to proceed. He'd heard of worse, certainly, but it was still unpleasant to imagine such a scene.

"Did he force you to do anything after he put the gag on you?"

Pavel sighed. "No. But if I had not kicked him, he might haff." He wrinkled his nose. "He says it was an accident and he would newer do it again, but I don't feel like I can trust him anymore." Pavel wiped his eye furiously. "I was scared. I was so scared. And I don't care if maybe ze pill caused me to be scared, it was real fear and I wanted to stop, but he did not ask me if I wanted ze gag, and he always asked…"

_Christ on a bike. What a mess_, Leonard thought.

Pavel chewed on his lip for a bit. "So that is ze story." He twisted his hands in his lap.

"Pavel, why did you come down here tonight after breaking up with Hikaru?" Leonard was glad Pavel was sharing his anguish with someone instead of bottling it up, but he still wasn't sure where he fit into the picture.

"I haff been so upset zese days, I cannot ewen sleep. I was hoping you could giff me something to make me happy again, like you did for Ensign Wiznewski."

Leonard rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Since he told you that he was on meds for his condition, I feel comfortable telling you that Ensign Wiznewski suffers from clinical depression. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you don't have that. Now, I can send you to one of our counselors, but they'll tell you the same thing. However, I _can_ give you some advice. It's up to you whether you take it or not."

Pavel slumped in his chair. "Okay."

"Go talk to Hikaru."

"What?" Pavel was shocked.

"It sounds like a lot of things went wrong that night, but it all boiled down to a lack of communication. Only talking will fix that."

"I do not haff anything to say to him zat I haff not said already."

"Did you tell him, or yell at him?"

Pavel blushed. "I maybe said it a little loudly."

Leonard shook his head. "That's not talking." He pointed to his door. "Go back to his quarters or where you left him and tell him, calmly and firmly, why you're so upset with him. It sounds like he's already feeling horrible, since you just dumped his ass over his mistake, so do us all a favor and don't lay on any more guilt."

* * *

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry I talked you into the hitting thing. You doubted your control and I should have respected that."

"Thank you for your apology, but it is not necessary. I knew the risks and chose to participate. I regret that your nose is broken."

"Me too, man, believe me."

"If you require comfort, I would like you to know that I still find you aesthetically pleasing."

"Oh, thanks so much."

"Would you like me to give you oral sex?"

"No, I want to go to sleep. Bones gave me hydrocodone or some shit."

"Would you like a foot rub?"

"Spock, stop hovering. I'm not mad at you, so you don't have to try to make it up to me."

A mattress sagging.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"Wanna hold hands?"

"That would be an unequal sexual encounter."

"Yeah, good point."

"Nnn-!"

"Your fingers taste good, by the way."

* * *

The next morning everyone was too busy ribbing Jim about his bruised face to notice Hikaru and Pavel holding hands under the console.


	17. Sulu and Chekhov IV

Though they'd only been officially broken up for an hour and six minutes, Hikaru had been estranged from Pavel for over a month until last night. It felt like ten years.

Their make-up was sweet, full of chaste kisses, declarations of ardor, and absolutely no sex. The three hours they'd spent discussing boundaries and limits were extremely taxing. Happy as he was to have Pavel back, Hikaru fell asleep after everything was said and done.

But now his shift was over, and he sat in his room alone. He knew that it would take time to get back into the swing of things with Pavel. He didn't dare initiate sex. He knew he was facing a long dry spell, but it was a fair price to pay for being on speaking terms with his lover.

Someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," he called. The door slid open and revealed a freshly-showered Pavel in his black recreational clothes.

Hikaru swallowed sudden nervousness, remembering clearly that just twenty-four hours before, Pavel had appeared in that same doorway wearing those same clothes before telling Hikaru that Hell would freeze over before they'd ever get back together.

"Hey, Pavel," Hikaru said carefully.

"Hello, Hikaru," he replied, walking to the chair at the computer terminal. The door slid shut. They were alone in the quiet, and it was painfully awkward.

"Did you, um, want to hang out?"

Pavel sighed. "Well, yes and no. I am haffing a problem. I am thinking zat only you can help me." He lowered his voice. "It is a highly secret problem zat nobody must ewer know about. Zey will laugh."

Hikaru straighted. "Of course! What's the problem. I'm sure we can work something out."

Pavel looked almost embarrassed. "Zis problem is partially my fault. If I had been smarter, I could haff awoided it altogether. I am so dumb sometimes. Wery emotional, you know."

Hikaru was slightly alarmed. "Pavel, what the hell happened?"

The Russian looked at his boots. "I did not talk to my boyfriend for a month, and now he probably is so afraid of hurting me zat he will not chase me like he used to." He looked Hikaru square in the eye. "I really miss zat. It made me feel sexy, like he had to haff me right away."

Hikaru gulped. "Pavel…"

"Pasha," he whispered. "I am your little Pasha, remember?"

Hikaru went and knelt in front of Pavel and grasped his hands. "Pasha, I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything. I'm okay with just spending time together."

Pavel snorted. "I don't know what _you_ were doing when we were apart, Mr. Sulu, but _I_ haff not had sex in a month."

Hikaru smiled a little. "No worries, Pasha. I was too busy pining after hot Russian tail to notice anyone else."

Pavel kissed his nose and pressed a small object into Hikaru's hands. "I do not belief you. Proof it to me."

Hikaru looked at the object—it was lube.

"Are you sure?"

"Look."

Hikaru looked at Pavel's tented crotch and flashed a grin.

"Shall we take this to the bed, then?"

Pavel made a face. "My wirginity did not grow back, luwer-boy. I haff not changed. But if you suddenly want wanilla, we may haff to haff another talk."

"Are you sure?"

"Hikaru, you haff ten seconds to strip me or I swear to _God_ I will—"

Hikaru shoved Pavel against the wall. His boyfriend wrapped his arms around him, kissing him with a ferocity they'd never had before, teeth and tongues fighting with no clear goal. Hikaru wrestled Pavel's shirt off and threw it behind him, which allowed him access to Pavel's sensitive nipples.

"I don't want you to fuck my belly button," Pavel said, shoving Hikaru away from him. "Show me what you can do. What you can _really_ do."

Hikaru was speechless. What was Pavel playing at?

"Pasha…why do you want to do this?"

Pavel crossed his arms. "Because I'm horny and we haff not had sex in a month."

"I'm not going to hurt you. You don't need to feel guilty about anything, and I will _not_ be party to some kind of self-punishment thing you have going on."

Pavel grasped Hikaru's shoulders. "Listen to me well, because I will only say this once. I want you to fuck me we are both too tired to move. I want to be sore tomorrow. Tonight, we go crazy." He stepped back. "Just like ze old times. Be strong. Be in charge. If I say stop, we stop."

"We stop," Hikaru agreed.

* * *

Hikaru had pushed Pavel to the floor, lying partially on top of him with two fingers inside of him. They were both naked. Fingernail marks littered both men's skin, as did bite marks and dark blue hickeys.

"Now, Hikaru!" Pavel's voice was high and pleading.

Hikaru pulled his fingers out. "You're not prepped enough." His cock throbbed with anticipation, but he refused to turn their make-up sex into yet another trip to Dr. McCoy.

Pavel glared over his shoulder. "It has been a month. It will be tight no matter what you do." He turned his glare into Bambi-eyes and Hikaru wavered. "You know how I like it," Pavel added teasingly.

Hikaru stopped trying to resist and shoved himself inside Pavel in one hard thrust. Pavel cried out and dug his fingers into the carpet, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck me, Hikaru," he said through gritted teeth. "Fuck me now!"

Hikaru obeyed. He started thrusting in earnest, and when he found Pavel's prostate the young man _screamed_.

"More! More! Harder!"

Each thrust caused Pavel's chest to drag across the carpet an inch or so. Before long, he'd pushed him all the way to the bulkhead.

Hikaru simply pulled out, jumped up while pulling Pavel with him, and started fucking him against the bulkhead. Pavel's hands were flat against the bulkhead, his mouth open and eyes glassy.

"Y-yes, Hikaru, _da, da, da_!"

"You're mine," Hikaru hissed into his ear. "Say it."

"I'm yours," Pavel said with some difficulty, as Hikaru had started sucking his neck and stroking his cock. "I'm yours."

"And I'm yours, Pasha," Hikaru said, emphasizing each word with a precise thrust against Pavel's prostate. Pavel sobbed—this was all too overwhelming for him.

He came a moment later, crying out Hikaru's name. Hikaru thrusted a little more and then he too reached his own climax.

They collapsed on the floor and tried to steady their breathing.

After a few minutes, Pavel broke the silence.

"Hikaru, you may not want to hear this…"

"What is it, Pasha?"

"My chest hurts wery badly."

Hikaru looked sharply at his boyfriend's chest and groaned. A significant portion of Pavel's torso was covered in an angry red rug burn. One of his chafed nipples was bleeding a tiny bit.

"Ah, shit. I'm sorry. And don't say it's fine, because it's not."

Pavel sat up and grimaced. "It _is_ fine. We will go to ze medbay and get a cream for it. I would like it wery much if you rubbed it on."

Hikura closed his eyes and massaged his temples. "Can't we have sex at least once without going to the medbay afterward?"

"We are kink monsters. It is our fate."

"'Kink monsters'?"

Pavel shrugged, nonchalant. "A Russian phrase, I am thinking. The Russians inwented kink, you know."

Hikaru laughed and grabbed his boyfriend for another kiss.

* * *

And back to our regularly scheduled programming...


	18. Kirk and Spock V

Two weeks. That's how long Spock had been planning tonight.

Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand one hundred sixty minutes. One million two hundred nine thousand six hundred seconds.

And it felt like that, too.

He was going to perform oral sex on Jim tonight. It was the next step in their relationship. Jim just didn't know it, yet.

So far they'd petted and fondled, and it was all good fun—for Spock. Foreplay was a whole different game when putting your finger in your boyfriend's mouth felt vaguely obscene. However, he was sensitive to the fact that Jim did not share Spock's pleasure during such moments, and he endeavored to please his boyfriend as he had been pleased.

He'd settled on oral stimulation of Jim's genitalia, or as many people called it, a "blow job." Jim had offered to give him one once, but he thought it meant literally blowing on him, and he didn't think that sounded pleasurable. He'd politely declined and resumed fingering his lover.

Jim came into his quarters an hour after his shift ended, clearly exhausted. He smiled at Spock and kissed his forehead. "Hey, you."

"What was the nature of Mr. Scott's emergency?" Said emergency was what kept Jim away for so long after shift.

"Doesn't matter now," Jim said while pulling off his shirt. "There's a hot Vulcan in my bedroom and seven empty hours ahead of us."

Jim's libido was going to make Spock's job easy. "Jim, I have considered our sexual practices and would like to explore a new type of intercourse with you, with your permission."

Jim looked curious. "What's that?" His eyes flickered towards the side table where Spock knew a bottle of lube was stored.

Spock touched Jim's fingers in a Vulcan kiss. "I would like to perform oral sex on you tonight."

Jim did not need asking twice. He was out of his pants in record speed.

A few minutes later, Jim was lying on his back on the bed and Spock was lying on his stomach, perpendicular to Jim. He eyed Jim's erect penis, not sure of where to start. He realized that he'd never properly researched the task.

He quickly catalogued the physical appearance of the organ and mentally compared it to his own. They were similar in most aspects; the only differences were most likely aesthetic. The similarities would help him in his quest to please Jim—he would stimulate Jim the same way he wanted a partner to stimulate his own penis.

He started out licking and sucking, enjoying the little moans coming from Jim. He took that to mean Jim was pleased, and remembered that for the future.

He experimented with various degrees of penetration into his mouth and throat, the suction, and the direction of licking. He made sure not to repeat anything lest Jim become bored or dulled to the sensation. He was careful to not use too much pressure; male genitals in both species were extraordinarily sensitive. The sensory overload might be too much for Jim.

He'd been hard at work for ten minutes when Jim started making a new noise: little snores.

He'd fallen asleep.

Spock was positive that no species in the universe was supposed to respond to sexual stimulation with somnolence.

He shook Jim's shoulder. Jim jerked awake and blinked several times. "Whuz going on?"

"You fell asleep during oral sex," Spock said, perhaps a little petulantly.

Jim pursed his lips sheepishly. "Oh. Shit. Sorry, Spock."

Spock pulled the covers over Jim. "I don't understand. Why did you fall asleep?"

Jim turned pink. "I'd never lie to you, but you're not going to like it."

"I want to know."

Jim rubbed the back of his head and wouldn't meet Spock's eyes. "It's just that, uh, well, you're not very good at giving head."

Spock was appalled.


	19. Kirk and Spock VI

It was in moments like these that Spock willfully forgot that he was from a desert species.

Jim and Spock were pressed up against each other under the warm spray of the shower, kissing passionately, oblivious to anything else. Water fell down over them, dripping off their noses and chins, flowing in little rivulets down their backs. Drops on their eyelashes sparkled nicely in the warm light of the bathroom.

Spock slowly made a trail of kisses from Jim's lips down to his collar bone, nipping lightly each time he stopped. His hands massaged Jim's arms, working the warmth into the muscles in a way that made Jim sigh. Jim whispered his name and rested his own hands on Spock's hips. He imagined that he could feel Spock's erection throbbing between their stomachs, and he vowed to do something about it.

"Close your eyes," Jim breathed into Spock's ear. Spock obeyed.

Jim knelt down care and caressed Spock's erection almost reverently, then slipped it into his mouth. It tasted clean and fresh, with not a hint of sweat or musk. Spock gasped and reached out for Jim's head, his hands struggling for purchase in Jim's sopping hair.

Jim expertly licked and sucked Spock until his lover's knees were shaking. He kissed the tip of Spock's penis and smiled. "Maybe you should brace yourself against something, baby."

Spock leaned against the tiled shower wall for support, but most of his weight was still on his shaking legs.

Jim went back to his ministrations, this time taking all of Spock's length down into his throat, just the way Spock loved it. The hand that wasn't holding Spock for support was inching its way towards Spock's testicles.

Spock gulped. "Jim, I'm—very close to—"

Spock felt a tug on his scrotum, and he climaxed a second later with a groan that was drowned out by the rushing water. His knees gave out, and the slippery tiles of the shower stall offered no friction to catch him.

He tumbled on top of Jim in a terrifying whirl of limbs and water. Jim's body stopped Spock from hitting the hard floor, but Jim himself hit his head on the metal lip of the shower stall's bottom ledge.

"Jim?" Spock shifted off of Jim, who did not move or reply.

Spock turned off the water and lifted Jim up. He was unconscious and bleeding heavily from a two-inch laceration on his scalp. Quite a bit of blood had leeched into the shower water and was flowing down the drain in a way that was decidedly macabre.

Cursing, Spock lifted Jim into his arms and maneuvered himself out of the stall and into Jim's quarters, laying him on his bed and covering him with a towel.

He simultaneously pulled on a robe and commed Dr. McCoy.

"It's Jim, isn't it," the doctor said by way of greeting. "I'm on my way."


	20. Bones and Carol V

Two weeks of wheeling and dealing with Dr. M'Benga, pestering Jim, and surfing the nets for travel deals had finally paid off. Leonard and Carol were going to spend the night on the local pleasure planet and put up their feet for a while.

Or: "We're going to have the nastiest shag ever," Carol said firmly, leading Leonard by the hand—pulling him, actually—towards room 3B of the tiny bed and breakfast that overlooked a luminescent red lake. "I called the couple who owns this place and told them to give us something really cozy and romantic. A lover's loft, if possible."

"Isn't anywhere we have sex a lover's loft by definition?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "Your quarters are not a loft, dear. Oh, here it is!" She pulled the key card out of her pocket and unlocked the door. "Get ready for the best sex of your…oh, _shit_."

Room 3B was probably ten feet by ten feet, with only a twin bed and a side table with a sprig of fake flowers. The window overlooked trees, not the lake.

"Well, you said you wanted cozy," Leonard quipped, earning him a smack. Carol moved about the tiny room, her frown increasing every second.

"This is _not_ what I asked for. I said I was bringing my boyfriend, so what are they playing at, giving us a twin?" She turned towards the door. "I'm getting the manager."

Leonard grabbed her hand and shook his head. "Darlin', how about we take this as a personal challenge?"

Carol did a double take. "What do you mean?"

He slid his hands up her tunic and underneath her bra, rubbing his thumbs over her hardening nipples. "The twin bed is only a problem if we're going to sleep." He winked.

Carol laughed and stripped off her tunic. "I can get on board with that."

* * *

So far, there hadn't been unexpected mid-life crises, menstrual cycles, mentions of paternity, or wrenched backs. Basically, the sex was going pretty much as planned.

Carol growled and pinned Leonard's arms above his head. "This time around, you're not allowed to touch. Got that?"

Leonard nodded, eyes wide. "Yes, ma'am. No touching."

Carol scooted down so she should reach his cock with her mouth. It was a bit awkward, but she managed. Soon enough her head was bobbing up and down as she sucked Leonard, making sure to make long strokes with her tongue along the underside. He nearly choked whenever she did that.

She looked up at him and their eyes met. Without warning, he reached for her and pulled her up to meet his mouth in a fiery kiss. "You're the best part of my life," he said when they broke for air.

"I'm about to get even better," she said with a giggle, then wriggled her hips downward so Leonard could thrust inside.

Before long, Leonard wanted to take a more active role. He gently tugged Carol forward, and they were chest to chest for a moment. Leonard flipped them over…

…right onto the floor.

THUD.

Leonard yelped; Carol had landed on his wrist, which was turned at an unnatural angle. He knew at once that it was sprained, if not completely broken. "Baby, please get off my wrist," he gasped. It was already throbbing and burning.

Carol extracted her limbs from his and looked at his wrist. "Oh, dear. That look bad, Len."

She ran to pick up their clothes from the floor. "I'll help you dress, and then we'll go back on the ship. I can't wait to see Geoffrey's face when you explain how this happened."

Leonard just pouted and cradled his wrist.


End file.
